


Valentines Day

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff, Insecurities, M/M, a bit of angst, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Peter on Valentines Day </p><p>Not really about Valentines Day </p><p>more about stiles and peter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentines Day

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by: 
> 
> moonlightcalls who said 'but what about Stiles first crush being Peter and Stiles talking about with his mom?' 
> 
> I really ran with it :)

‘Mommy.’ Stiles says, clambering onto the bed beside her. He’s eight years old, and Claudia has weeks left. ‘Can I ask you something?’

Claudia smiles, wrapping her frail arms around her son and kissing the top of his head ‘you can always tell me anything, sweetheart.’

‘I…’ Stiles blushes beetroot red, wringing his hands into his batman shirt ‘Ihaveacrush.’ He whispers, and Claudia laughs delightedly, and she whispers as though she’s in on the secret

‘Who is it?’

Stiles nuzzles into her neck ‘Peter,’ he says very quietly and Claudia’s heart swells happily

‘Well honey,’ she begins ‘Valentines Day is in a few days, why don’t you make him something? People make presents for the ones that they love.’

Stiles nods like he wants to be making notes ‘is daddy going to make you something, mommy?’

‘Oh your father doesn’t need to. I know he loves me.’

‘More than anything.’ John whispers from the door, stepping forward. He smells of alcohol, and Claudia purses her lips unhappily.

‘Stiles, honey, why don’t you go get started on that gift? I keep some ribbons and glitter in my crafts box in the hallway cupboard, go and have some fun.’ He kisses her cheek and runs away. ‘John,’ she closes her eyes ‘when was the last time you read our son a bedtime story?’

John looks down at his hands. His eyes always seem permanently rimmed red. He looks as though he’s dying too.

‘Melissa tells me she saw you drinking in the station. She says she heard you yell at Stiles at the playground. John,’ she shakes her head, and tears are threatening to spill ‘you cannot abandon our child-‘

‘Claudia please-‘

‘John. John-‘ and then she starts crying, and the two of them hold each other. And John promises to try harder, for her. For Stiles.

…

…

…

Peter scoops Stiles into his arms, hugging him tightly

‘Happy Valentines Day, Peter!’ Stiles exclaims, wriggling and kissing Peter’s scruff. The blond man nips at Stiles’ ear. Setting him down, only for Stiles to capture his hand and lead him to the sofa and sit him down. Stiles blushes prettily ‘mommy says you give each other things on Valentines Day if you…if you like ‘em.’

Peter can’t help his grin ‘do you like me, Stiles?’

Stiles blushes further, but fetches the card and hands it to Peter.

The thing is literally oozing purple glitter, and Stiles has cut out a picture of a wolf and two little stick men, one tall, one tiny, holding hands while walking down a hill. He opens it up, and an array of pink hearts jumps at him, and he reads the carefully written blue crayon

_To Peter_

_Have a very nice Valentines Day, and eat lots of chocilite_

_I love you very much_

_Xxx_

And there’s a little orange chocolate that’s been stuck with glue in the corner. It’s Stiles’ favourite chocolate, and he’s looking at him with enormous amber eyes, so Peter plucks it off and eats an odd flavoured mix of chocolate and glue, but it’s worth it, because Stiles looks beyond pleased.

‘Thank you very much,’ Peter says solemnly ‘I’ll treasure it.’

Stiles giggles, and then reaches under the couch and pulls out a piece of paper, on it is written ‘Peter and Stiles’ and Stiles has two paint brushes and two pots of paint. He takes Peter’s hand and starts painting green onto it. It’s a nice feeling, the soft bristles, and Stiles’ warm hands, and the way the small boy furrows his eyebrows and darts his tongue out in concentration as though Peter is the most important thing in the universe.

And then Stiles presses Peter’s hand onto some paper, and passes the red over to the older man. Hand out expectantly. Peter tries to be as slow as possible painting Stiles’ hand, because it’s so much smaller and that isn’t fair.

And then Stiles presses his hand print down inside Peter’s and after a moment, presents the paper as a gift.

It’s…

It should be a reminder of their age difference and species difference but instead it just makes Peter love him even more. He twines their painted hands together, and presses a kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand, who blushes happily.

‘I got you something too, Stiles,’ he whispers, pulling the beautifully wrapped present out. Stiles gasps, admiring the silver wrapping and green bow. He hoists himself onto Peter’s lap, cradling it.

‘Why did you get me one?’ Stiles asks quietly, and Peter smiles against his hair

‘Because I like you too.’

Stiles blinks up at him ‘yeah?’

‘Yes, Stiles.’

Stiles smiles so openly, and presses a small kiss to Peter’s throat where he can reach. And opens the present. It’s a tiny glass and diamond wolf. Beyond expensive, but utterly beautiful. Stiles holds it carefully, and takes Peter upstairs to place it gently on the window sill. Where it stays, very happily, for years and years to come.

…

…

…

Stiles, upon turning fifteen, knowing Peter is his soul mate, and then finding out Peter refuses to do more than kiss him until he turns eighteen, can get a little annoying.

Peter jumps into Stiles’ room and freezes.

Stiles is lying across the bed, quite naked, and hard, stroking himself off and moaning Peter’s name. The werewolf can barely think for a second. The scent is mouth-watering

‘Stiles-‘ he chokes out ‘stop-‘

Stiles grins at him, eyes blown with lust ‘you could help-‘

‘No.’ Peter growls, and he watches for one more second, before forcing himself out of the window and far away.

Stiles kicks his wall with frustration, curling into a ball and letting his erection die. Peter doesn’t like him _like that._ Despite what he says. Stiles can barely control himself around Peter, but Peter can just walk away from him. Literally, jumping out of a window.

That event happens a few days before Valentines Day, and if Stiles were more of a child, he’d not give Peter anything. As it is, he’d been saving up for ages and he’s not just _not_ going to give it to his mate.

The Sheriff is out working, and Stiles sits at the kitchen counter, waiting for Peter to arrive. They haven’t talked since that night. And Stiles has been stewing in embarrassment, humiliation and shame.

Peter walks in merrily, grinning and placing Stiles’ gift down with a flourish. Stiles rolls his eyes ‘cocky bastard.’ He mutters, opening it up.

But then he stops.

It’s a picture- of Stiles and his Mother, and Stiles has never seen it before. He has all photos of the two of them memorized to heart, this is a different one. In it, the two are beaming up at the camera, and in the bottom corner he can see his dad’s chubby finger. They’re sat in a park and she looks so happy.

Stiles doesn’t realize he’s crying until a drop lands on his thumb. Peter’s there suddenly, wiping them away, and Stiles hugs him tightly. He realizes he doesn’t mind. Peter is so amazing and he loves him so much he doesn’t mind not being wanted in _that_ way. It’s been framed beautifully and Stiles loves him.

‘Hey, hey, Stiles, shh,’ Peter hushes him, stroking his fingers through Stiles’ hair, and Stiles doesn’t even know why he was ever angry. Peter is so perfect, and Stiles is just nothing, _nothing nothing nothing-_

He wakes up hours later. Peter wrapped around him while they’re positioned on the sofa to watch the television.

‘I feel asleep?’ Stiles croaks, and Peter kisses his temple

‘That’s okay. You looked exhausted even when I walked in.’ And his voice is calm, smooth like silk with understanding and Stiles turns and burrows into Peter’s chest.

‘I’m sorry I ruined everything.’ Stiles muffles and Peter frowns

‘Stiles, you didn’t ruin anything. I got to spend Valentines Day with you, and I’m going to guess you liked your gift.’

‘I loved it.’ Stiles nods vehemently, and he leans up to kiss Peter- before remembering himself and tucking his head back down. Peter frowns.

Stiles gets a text from his dad saying he’ll be home early, and they both sit up, Stiles wiping his eyes and breathing deeply as Peter heads for the door. It’s not that they’re not allowed to be with each other on Valentines Day, it’s just this day is always hard for the Sheriff, and Stiles likes keeping close to him, watching how much he’s drinking and that his gun is out of reach. Stiles likes to make his dad smile on days like today. When his father is reminded of how much he’s lost.

Peter opens the door, and the chilled evening air hits Stiles.

And then he remembers

‘Peter! Your gift!’ And he rushes upstairs to get it. Whilst there, he grabs a piece of paper, and a pen, taping it to the bottom, writing as quickly as he can, before rushing downstairs. He gives it to Peter, smiling chastely and leaping when the car pulls in- that was fast, his dad must have texted just as he was actually leaving. Peter smiles, and darts in for a kiss, but Stiles pulls back, waving at his dad.

…

…

…

The night is dark around Peter, but he can see just fine, and he settles himself on a park bench to look at the gift Stiles had bought him. Stiles was normally a little wacky. Sometimes they were strange potions, at one point a DVD of the fantastic four which apparently Peter needed to see or his life wasn’t complete.

He opened the box-shaped present, prepared to find another wacky present only to pause. It was a Rolex. A beautiful, bronze Rolex that must have cost at least £800, which in fairness, wasn’t all that expensive for a Rolex, but Peter knew instantly how much Stiles would have had to work and save and that made is priceless. It was heavy and weighty in his hand, a fine choice with a smooth cool surface.

There was a note with it

_Dear Peter,_

_I took this watch to Ben Trie, and had him charm it so whenever you shift, it disappears, but when you turn back to human, it’s back on your wrist unharmed. It will also not get too hot (with all your wolfie tendencies) and will never stop working. I know it’s maybe not as meaningful as some of my other gifts, but I do hope you like it. And I want you to wear it. I get this thrill at the thought of you wearing it, and my research shows that’s normal in were-wolf couples. Maybe I like marking you? ;)_

_All my love,_

_Stiles_

_X_

Peter smiled, putting the watch on and beginning to carefully fold the wrapping paper (it was star wars silver wrapping paper) when another piece of paper fell out. It smelt of Stiles, and the ink was more fresh- the handwriting scruffier, Stiles had written it in the time it had taken him to fetch the present.

_Peter-_

_I love you, so much. And your gift- what you got me, means the world to me. Thank you so much. I…I don’t deserve you, and I’m so sorry for what a bratty kid I’ve been acting like lately. That stunt I pulled the other night was way out of line and I’m sorry. It’s okay that you don’t like me in that way I’m just happy being with you. _

_Stiles_

_X_

Peter stared at the note, he could imagine Stiles writing it.

That stupid kid.

That’s why he’d been avoiding kisses and touches, he thought Peter didn’t find him attractive. Granted leaping out of a window to get away from a masturbating teen didn’t exactly help his case but- Peter shook his head fondly.

…

…

…

‘Please stop.’ Stiles begged, as Peter started describing the seventeenth dirty fantasy he had thought about between him and Stiles

‘-and the blind fold is made of silk-‘

‘Peter! Okay! I get it! Okay!’ Stiles was covering his ears, beet red and humming

‘-and I’m partially shifted so my tongue is longer-‘

‘LA LA LA I can’t hear you!’ Stiles screamed, sprinting away, and Peter caught him around the middle, grinning

‘I have _millions_ of fantasies about you, Stiles. All of them, every dirty dream I ever had is about you. I’m just going to wait until you’re 18. I wouldn’t want to break you.’

Stiles nodded shyly ‘I just…do you know how mortifying it was, Peter? To be lying there…v-vulnerable, _for you?_ Do you know how much courage that took? I nearly backed out of it three times, but then I thought-‘ and his voice broke ‘he’s my soul mate, and he’s not going to laugh at me, or reject me-‘

‘Stiles,’ Peter breathes, wrapping him up tighter as Stiles blinks back tears ‘I’m so sorry-‘

‘No, don’t be,’ Stiles hiccups ‘I’m just embarrassed, that’s all. Think I’d be used to it.’ He tries weakly, managing a small wry smile but Peter refuses to let him go.

‘Do you know how beautiful you looked?’ He whispered ‘lying on that bed for me? Dripping?’ his voice is low and hot and right into Stiles’ ear. ‘You looked like sin, Stiles. All lit up with the moonlight, your beautiful body- _god._ You’re going to get me thrown into prison. You’re fifteen.’

Stiles shakes his head into Peter’s chest

‘My sweet boy,’ Peter chuckles ‘you’ll never know how gorgeous you are to me. Talia used to slap me but she doesn’t bother anymore.’

Stiles half smiles ‘you’re still ridiculously out of my league.’

‘Well that’s true,’ he says in mock seriousness, and Stiles jabs him

‘Idiot.’ Stiles mutters with a smile, and Peter noses Stiles’ hair

‘Thank you for my magic watch.’

Peter laughs when Stiles punches him.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE COMMENT
> 
> PRETTY PLEASE


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